


Avoiding Wade

by Sempai



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, spideypool - Fandom
Genre: Alpha Wade, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bullying, Daddy Kink, Deadpool Thought Boxes, Dubious Consent, First Time, Firsts, Implied Mpreg, Implied Relationships, Knotting, Large Cock, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Nipple Play, Omega Peter Parker, Plot, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, Restraints, Riding, Social Anxiety, Spanking, Spideypool - Freeform, Stalker Wade Wilson, Superfamily (Marvel), Teasing, Virgin Peter Parker, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2018-12-06 11:25:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11599662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sempai/pseuds/Sempai
Summary: Spider-Man has enough problems. Peter Parker has even more and he doesn't need a certain odd mercenary stirring him up. It seems that being an Avenger isn't what it's cracked up to be, especially for a hormonal teen and not to mention, an omega.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I also posted this story to Wattpad under the author Yakkun. I'll be updating this story, preferably every two days or every other day. Gonna keep the chapters short like maybe 1, 1.5, or 2 thousand each. Let me know what you think, any and all suggestions welcome.

The teen blinks slowly, wide eyed in disbelief.

“H…huh?”, Peter gurgles out through a mouthful of water, having been chugging a bottle to cool down from having to deal with a high school temporarily without air conditioning. He swallows quickly so he could ask questions, especially since his parents didn’t respond to his baffled reaction.

“Hello? This …this is some kind of prank isn’t it?”, he looks between the two, “Wait, no…uh? This has to be a trick? I thought I was stuck on that stupid training wheels’ program until I turned 18?”

Steve, the gentler of the two parents, clears his throat, “Well, we both decided that it would be in your best interest to have access to your suit’s full capabilities if we’re going to let you become a full-fledged Avenger. To be honest, as much as I hate to admit it…you’re growing up and you have so much potential. The beginners program isn’t going to cut it anymore.”

Tony looks up for the first time since the conversation started. “It was your dad’s idea, I’m completely against it. But hey-”, he pinches the bridge of his nose, still having a hard time letting Steve have his way. “-if he thinks it’s worth the trouble then I can only prepare for damage control.”

“Damage control?!” the boy exclaims, instantly offended.

“Peter…that’s not what he meant.”, Steve says in an attempt to diffuse the situation before it starts. The two always butt heads, end up arguing and go days on end giving each other the silent treatment. Tony goes back to reading a robotics report on his tablet, in a motion to dismiss his son’s outburst. The teen glares at his father at the opposite end of the table while picking up his backpack from the ground, slinging it over his shoulder and proceeding to march up the stairs to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Steve winces at the noise and sighs, walking around the table and placing his hands on his husband’s shoulders. “You didn’t have to say that. You know that Peter already thinks that we, mainly you, don’t take him seriously because he’s young.”

Tony scoffs, “A kid should get treated like a kid, and that childish display just now? Further proves my point. Getting temperamental because I said something that was true? Sure, he has potential but he operates like a rookie, has no sense of danger and leaves one hell of a mess for me to clean up. They should call him Spiderboy, not Spiderman.”

The blonde, squeezes the man’s shoulders tight, hard enough to feel him wince beneath his grip. “That’s enough. Give him one week to show you he’s capable of being on the team. Once he does, I expect you to shut up about it.” He releases his hold and leaves the dining room for the kitchen, taking Tony’s silence as agreement.

\--

Peter sinks into the dark blue beam bag chair, cursing under his breath, clenching and unclenching his fists.

_What does he know anyway? I’m always busting up bad guys and stuff. Being a superhero is a piece of cake…but I’ll never be as good as the Avengers if I’m not given the chance I mean, my freaking parents are Captain America and Iron Man for Christ’s sake! I’m basically born to be a superhero! …Or not._

He sighs once. Twice. Three times before suddenly jumping up, shrugging off his clothes and climbing into his suit. Once fully dressed, he grabs his backpack and takes off, climbing out from his bedroom. Shooting webs from each wrist, swinging first on the poles of the streetlights then to other buildings once he reaches them. He glances back at the obnoxious home that screams ‘Stark’, rolling his eyes. Its isolated from the other homes, lavish and modern. Not complaining, he’s grateful to have such a nice home and life for the most part but; it causes trouble for him at school. However, the bullying isn't the worst of his problems. It’s the intense looks he’s starting to get lately. Those alpha bully bastards haven’t been on his case lately and have substituted punches for staring which make him much more uncomfortable for some reason. Those stares make a storm of uneasiness brew in his belly which results in an overwhelming wave of nausea and fear. He didn’t think of telling his parents; he knew it would be a waste of time, plus you can’t do anything about staring in the first place. It’s probably nothing.

He’s lost in thought, swinging through the city mindlessly; its muscle memory by now. He propels himself into the air after achieving a decent speed, landing to perch on the corner of an apartment building. Reaching inside his backpack, he pulls out a half finished lab report.

“Damn.” He curses to no one in particular, maybe at the universe, or the city for having so much crime. The report was due yesterday but he didn’t have enough time because he got caught up stopping a bank robbery the night before. The frustrated teen takes out a pen to continue his work when he hears a loud crash come from the alleyway. Whipping his head around, the eyes of his upgraded suit narrow to focus in on a figure sporting red and black; rapidly smashing someone’s head against a dumpster.

“Stop!” he yells, springing into action by a web and kicking the man in the side, sending him flying a few feet, and lands on his feet before him, first crouched then coming to stand up straight.

“Uhgh…”, the other groans. The man is muscular and clad in leather, somewhat similar to the spider suit but not. A lot more dangerous looking or maybe it’s because the man is strapped with guns and a katana at his back. “Hey..”, the guy starts as he sits up with a bit of a jolt, “What a hell of kick! You’re that friendly neighborhood spider!”

Peter cocks his head to the side, “Uh, yeah? Listen, I’m not in the mood so give yourself up quietly.”

“Give myself up? Ooh, I hope you don’t mean…give up my goodies?!” the man exclaims in an innocent tone which makes peter cringe slightly.

“What a weird guy…”, Peter mumbles and immediately webs the guy back to the ground. His entire body entombed in a webbed cover. “It’ll dissolve in 2 hours but I’ll have the police come pick you up in 20.”

“Okie dokie!”, the man replies cheerily.

Peter inspects the man in the web with his suit’s system facial recognition database. No results.

_No good huh? Oh well, he’ll be in the system after tonight. I have to get that other guy to the hospital. And I thought I could finally get some homework done._

Spiderman sighs for a fourth time that day.


	2. You Stink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If ya see any mistakes let me know! Thanks for the help in advance! Also Father is Tony and Dad is Steve.

Peter struggles to keep his eyes open in class, head drooping in his hand, jerking back up every few seconds to keep himself from falling asleep. He ended up running into some more trouble after dealing with that weird guy in the alley which caused him not to finish his homework or get much sleep. Even though its the end of the day he's dead tired and being forced to listen to the lecture of the monotone voiced literature teacher isn’t helping. He feels a tap on his shoulder and lazily turns to see one of his childhood friends, Mary Jane or rather MJ trying to pass him a note. His other friend, Ned sitting a few desks from them, smiles in their direction. Peter blinks the sleep from his eyes and takes the note from her, reading it;

[Ned: Today’s Friday! You know what that means! MJ: There gonna be a party at Liz’s house and guess who got us an invite? Yours truly.]

Peter replies with a quick scribble, [No], passing it back to MJ who then passes it to Ned until it returns back to him.

[MJ: knew it.  Ned: It’ll be fun! Last one wasn’t that great with that asshat Flash fuckboy Thompson as the Dj but it’ll be different this time. MJ: yeah that was the worst, but I heard he’s actually not coming.]

Peter perks up after reading the last bit as the bell rings; students hurriedly gathering their belongings, eager to enjoy their Friday. Ned rushes over to his friends when he has enough space to squeeze through the crowd rushing for the door.

“So!”, the short, chubby Asian boy blurted excitedly, “What’d ya say! Yeah! Yeah?”. MJ laughs and Peter tries his best to keep a straight face; to no avail, corners of his mouth turning up into a smile. He throws his arms around them both and pulls them close in a mock threatening manner.

“The first sign of Flash and I’m outta there. And you guys are dead meat.”, he says jokingly but actually serious about the first part.

“Yeah yeah, gotcha.”, the girl drawls playfully and pulls her friends toward the door. “Let’s get going, I need as many hours as possible to get ready; I have to look good for Harry”, she gushes and the two boys wrinkle their noses in distaste for MJ’s boyfriend while following the girl out of the classroom then split off to their lockers, Peter’s at the corner of the next hallway. Peter turns the corner only to bump into the chest of none other than Flash Thompson, the very thorn in his high school existence. Flash grabs a fist full of peter’s shirt and slams him up against the locker.

“Hey Parker, thought I told you to stay outta my way? Huh?”, the taller boy questions through clenched teeth. Peter looks behind him, noticing the other boy who is never far behind. He wouldn’t consider the other a bully but he doesn’t exactly help either.

“Harry.”

The other boy pretends like he just notices the situation and smiles slightly, “Peter.”

Flash’s grip slackens only for a moment, catching a whiff of an unfamiliar and sweet smell. He sniffs the air a bit, then leans down toward the boy in his hold, sniffing curiously having found the source of the sickly sweet aroma in the air. He lets him go, roughly tossing him aside, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

“Take a fucking shower.”

\--

Peter opens the bathroom door, letting the steam roll out and dissipate into the cool air. Having scrubbed every inch of his body with an old brush; his skin is red and sore. He shuffles down to the kitchen with towel tightly tied around his waist in search of the chipper blonde that is usually home before he returns from school. He thinks he saw him when he came in but was preoccupied with getting to the shower as fast as humanly possible. He finds the man bustling in the kitchen; wearing an apron only Tony would have picked out. Peter shakes his head at the Iron Man themed apron.

_Who the hell buys their own merchandise? And he says he isn’t a narcissist._

The blonde notices the boy out the corner of his eye and turns enthusiastically with one of those bright and nearly blinding smiles on his face, blue eyes glimmering which means he’s probably up to something. He approaches his son with a spoon; a creamy, delicious smelling sample of alfredo sauce.

“Have a taste, will ya? Give me your expert opinion.”, Steve insisted.

“Okay”, the teen agreed, emptying the spoon within seconds. “It’s good, but it could use just a bit more garlic powder, maybe like…I don’t know, 1/4th teaspoon?”

Steve nods, “Ah, you sure do know your way around a kitchen; why didn’t I think of that? Nice one.” He proceeds to add the suggested amount into the pot and continues to stir as the mixture thickens in order to prevent it from sticking to the bottom. Peter speaks up abruptly as he feels confident since its just Steve around.

“Do you think I… stink?”

“Stink? Didn’t you just take a shower?”, the older questions.

Peter realizes how silly he sounded just now and whines a bit, earning a light chuckle from his dad. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “People at school say I smell funny…and, uh…never mind. Maybe I’m sweating a lot cause’ it’s hot- “

The doorbell rings.

Peter jumps up to get the door; swinging it open. He blinks with wide eyes, “Uncle Bucky?!”

Always with a somber expression and sporting all black; Bucky reluctantly ruffles the boy’s hair with his human hand but not offering any words despite not having seen the kid in a few years. Steve ushers them both in so they won’t let bugs inside and smiles sweetly at his longtime friend which causes Peter to raise an eyebrow; it shouldn’t but it does. The boy watches the two as they walk into next room and start to chat.

_Wait a minute…last time I saw Uncle Bucky was when Father told me I had to stop Dad from…and then I stole his shield; which was pretty damn sweet but then...they fought...Family drama was at an all-time high back then. But I still don’t know why Father doesn’t like Uncle Bucky. He seems like a decent dude…but then again I don’t know all the details, or...any._

The boy is pulled from his thoughts at the call of his name. “Yeah?”

The blonde continues talking although Peter didn’t hear the first bit. “Bucky tracked down a friend of ours, seems like he’s still in New York. Now, he’s a little eccentric, a bit unorthodox but I think he’d be a good partner for your field training.”

“Er…”, Peter starts, “Who is he? Is he an Avenger?”

Bucky almost cracks a smile. Almost.

Steve stifles a laugh, “Not really, kind of? Anyway, his name’s Deadpool and while Mr. Fury is making arrangements for you at headquarters, you’ll be working with him. You can start tonight or tomorrow; whichever you prefer.”

Although eager, the teen anxiously looks down at his feet, recalling the plans he had already made with his best friends; his only friends. “Uh…not tonight I have something to do.”

“Okay”, Steve nodded; “Tomorrow then.”


	3. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *WARNING*  
> :c Non-Con  
> *WARNING*

Bodies grinding against one another, sweating in the heat, lights dim and music blaring in his ears; Peter’s taking it all in. From a distance anyway, he’s in a fairly secluded corner nursing a drink, swirling it around in the red solo cup. He felt it as soon as he had arrived; he doesn’t belong here so it’s no surprise that he’s not having a good time. He sees Ned across the room trying to socialize with some girls and MJ chatting it up with some classmates, probably from the debate team. Of course he’d rather be spending time with them instead of standing all alone but he’s afraid of being that friend who’s clingy because they are uncomfortable in social situations. He doesn’t want to follow his friends around but he feels so damn awkward. Awkward and uncool. He wants to go home.

Liz saunters over, two cups in hand and looking a bit dazed. “Peter!”, she drapes an arm over his shoulders; “I’m happy you’re here! Enjoying the party? You never come to like, anything.”

“Y-yeah.”, the boy stammers while forcing a smile. Liz has always been nice to him so he doesn’t want to be rude.

“Whatcha drinkin’?” she asks quizzically although he knows that she most likely already gathered that his cup is full of Sprite. He has a tendency to play it safe, at least when he’s ‘Peter Parker’; Spiderman on the other hand is quite the risky fellow. Liz shoves a cup into his free hand; taking the other drink away and setting it down on a nearby windowsill. Peter looks at her then into the cup with hesitation and she offers a reassuring smile. “It’ll loosen you up. C’mon”; she takes him by the hand, leading him into the crowd of gyrating teens.

He sips on the drink as they dance; face scrunching less as the flavor settles on his tongue. Bitter yet sweet; calm, yet fiery. It burns his chest and tastes like a combination of lemonade, sprite, the flaming alcohol and something else that Peter couldn’t quite put his finger on. He’s tried alcohol once, and back then he carefully measured the content of a single shot, worried that his parents would find out. After that MJ started poking fun at him being a ‘good son’, which he didn’t mind too much since its basically true. Although he does want to be bad every once in a while. Bad in a sense of not being overly cautious and finally letting loose like a normal wild and rebellious teenager would.

Letting go feels good. He’s been dancing for god knows how long and he’s lost count of how many drinks he’s had; even the color of his cup is different, alternating between red and blue. Everyone and everything sounds as if it’s gone up pitch or two and he unconsciously grinds his teeth together. The occasional brush from strangers dancing near him feels good, the clothes against his skin feels good; everything feels incredibly good. Liz returns to check on Peter whose eyes are glazed and dilated.

“Oh shit, I think I overdid it.”, the girl fretted, “It shouldn’t have lasted this long…” She hastily walks over to a guy in a black hoodie who’s chilling on the couch. “I told you to just give him .05!” she exclaims, freaking out just a teeny bit. The shady looking guy shrugs his shoulders.

“You told me to make sure your friend has a good time so I might have, y’ know, dropped some in every drink. Not like its big deal; they were like .25.”, he drawls nonchalantly which prompts Liz to pull her hair in frustration.

“That’s totally a big deal! That much in each drink? Are you fucking stupid?! What if he…”, she pauses and begins biting her nails; “What if he fucking dies or something?!”

The guy laughs a bit, but stops once she kicks him, making him wince in pain. “Sorry, it’s not funny, I’m just high.”

“Ugh!”, Liz shrieks and spins around to find Peter gone.

Having felt nauseous, Peter made his way to the bathroom, despite having a blast dancing with familiar and unfamiliar people. He leans over the sink, stomach squeezing and lurching forward. It’s just a dry heave and the boy his thankful; he hates throwing up. He hears an amused grunt come from behind; slowly turning around surprised that there’s another person in the room with him and even more startled at who it is. The taller boy closes the distance between them, crashing his lips against Peter’s, biting his bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth. Peter braces his hand on the other’s chest and pushes reflexively, despite feeling his strength leaving his body; his movements sluggish and uncoordinated.

“Harry...what the fuck?”, Peter snapped; reaching for the door but the other blocks the exit, taking hold of Peter’s arm.

“You smell…so fucking good…,” the taller growls, slamming the omega harshly against the bathroom door, restraining the boy firm by the wrists; the side of Peter’s face and chest flush against the hard wood.

“W-what the hell are you doing? “, he asks, but gets no reply but the unzipping of jeans and the disturbing reality of his own plummeting down to his ankles, along with his underwear. He’s scared but too weak to put up a fight; his legs tremble as he feels the sensation of Harry’s throbbing erection sliding between the crevice of his ass. Up and down until beads of precum dribbles from the head.

“Don’t worry,” Harry pants, “I won’t put it in.” Instead he pushes Peter’s legs together; sliding his dick between the other’s thighs, thrusting back and forth, reaching around and wrapping his hand around the omega’s half hard cock; stroking it to match his thrusts. His movements are rapid and desperate, attempting to get off quickly.

“Ah...! S-Stop!”, the boy begs, bracing the wall as he spurts come on the door, unwillingly aroused and premature. His legs give out and he falls onto the floor as Harry releases his hold. The alpha yanks the boy by the hair, shoving his cock into Peter’s moist cavern of a mouth. He thrusts in and out getting his dick wet; fucking the mouth fast and vicious.

The boy can barely breathe as the cock is forced deeper and deeper down his throat. He gags and chokes yet his throat opens with force and the warm, pulsating organ continues to slide against his tongue. Peter can hardly think, the guttural moans of the boy in front of him being the only thing he can hear above the bass of the music in the background. He wants it to be over and his sense of time is distorted. It seems as if only a second ago he was standing shyly in the corner, but it’s been hours since then and at least fifteen minutes in this bathroom. He feels Harry jolt, groaning as he holds Peter’s head, keeping his mouth at the base of his cock; releasing thick and sticky come down Peter’s throat.

As Harry holds his head steady, Peter starts to panic; pushing at the other’s thighs, trying to get some air until he bites. He bites down hard on the invading organ until he tastes blood. Harry yelps and punches Peter in the nose; freeing himself, staggering back against the sink. Peter gasps and coughs violently; come and blood mixing in a small pool on the bathroom tile.

Harry pulls up his pants and leaves.

 

\--

“Peter! What happened to your face?!”, Steve exclaimed; having rushed to the door once he heard the door chime sound. He cups Peter’s face in his hands; lips red and abused, nose red and bloodied. He inspects the boy further, fearing the worst. “We’re going to the hospital.”

“No…I don’t want to...”, Peter protests although its barely above a whisper.

“Then…”, Steve cautiously starts, “How about we go see Bruce and- “, before he can finish, Peter starts to cry. He rests his forehead against his dad’s comforting chest; finally feeling safe as he sobs into his shirt. Steve wraps his arms around the boy, trembling and small in his arms.

“I’m here Peter; you’re home now.”


	4. Chimichanga?

Bruce glances back and forth between Peter, who is lying on the examination table and his frantic parents; pacing outside his lab’s tempered glass windows. He glides across the room in the rolling chair; having retrieved the tools he needs from one of the other stations. He gently removes the gauze from the boy’s nose and applies a homemade paste; a recent one he’s created by extracting samples from himself; studying the healing factor within his own tissue and experimenting with it. The paste is only a prototype and serves as a bonding agent more than anything. Which means there will still be a bruise for a while but it’s better than stitches. Bruce covers the wound this a fresh bandage and leans back in his chair.

“So…just to be clear; you don’t want to take legal action against whoever did this to you.”; Bruce states although Peter knows by his tone and facial expression it is definitely a question. Peter sits up, swinging his legs off the table.

“Yeah.”, he breathes out.

“You know, that even though you decided to bathe after the attack; I can still find tissue samples since you said you bit him and maybe even semen samples; from your stool that is.”, Bruce explained. Peter quirked an eyebrow and the man just shrugged. “I’m not your average forensic analyst. I can find whatever you need me to find.”

The boy smiles a bit, forcefully and truly thankful that the man would go through such lengths for him. “No, its fine Uncle Bruce, really; it is…and let’s keep the details between us. Err, pinky swear on it.”

“We’re seriously pinky swearing?”

“Yeah”

“I don’t like this…but if it’s what you want then…”, the man holds up his pinky which Peter hooks with his, sealing their promise of secrecy.

“I really appreciate this Uncle Bruce, I really do.”

“You were drugged peter. High off drugs and intoxicated with alcohol and large amounts of it too. It’s quite serious and it’ll be in your system for a few days. Don’t hesitate to contact me if you have high feelings of anxiety, depression, thoughts of suicide, high blood pressure, experience a seizure; anything out of the ordinary; I need to know about it.”

Peter nods, “Yeah, yeah; I will.”, he laughs dryly, “Seriously though, I don’t think being forced to suck a dick will make me want to die.”

“You’re deflecting…”, Bruce sighs and pats the boy on the knee. “…and that’s normal too. I want you to be careful and please notify me. You’re even showing signs of an impending heat which…isn’t ideal for your mental state right now. You’ll be highly unstable.”

Peter blinks, mouth parting slightly in disbelief. “Heat? Isn’t it supposed to be delayed? I get the shots every month and take my suppressants every freakin’ day!”

“Now you see why I’m so concerned.”

“Oh my God.” Peter hides his face in his hands; trying his best not to get upset.

“And your heat WAS delayed.”, Bruce adds, “But…it’s been unnaturally suspended for years now and- “

“Wait wait wait!”, Peter interrupts, “How long until…”

The scientist swivels over to his lab reports; scanning for the boy’s blood test results. “It’s hard to tell, could be any day now.”

Tony bursts into the room, muttering a string of curses. He’s animated and making a strangling motion with his hands “You tell me who that little fucker is and I’ll wring his chicken neck!” Steve follows after him worry shown clear on his face. Tony lets out an enraged growl which makes all of them jump; even Bruce who’s a beta and is normally unaffected by these types of feral reactions. Bruce jumps up from his seat, “Hey hey! Don’t scare the poor kid. We’ve already talked, his vitals are fine and he’s agreed to participate in checkups and treatment I have in place.” Steve smiles thankfully at the scientist but doesn’t say anything as he softly smooths the top of his son’s head; fixing a mild case of bedhead. Peter grumbles and takes a small hop down from the table.

“I know you guys are worried but, really, I’m fine.”, Peter assures with an air of confidence that fools no one but himself. He offers a small smile to his father but not saying anything to him; still annoyed at him for what he said the other day. He stretches his arms dramatically, reaching high above his head and twisting his body side to side. “So…are we gonna stand here all day or are we gonna do some superhero stuff? Field training remember?” Bruce nods curtly and drags his chair to a different part of the room to continue working on one of his many research projects. Peter pumps a fist.

“Let’s suit up!”

 

\---

Tony continues his thorough explanation via the holographic interface that is built into Peter’s suit. “- and that concludes the functions of the major upgrades that were made; hey boy spider, pay attention”, Tony snaps. The teen looks back at the screen, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. His father continues; taking off his shades to get the effect of making direct eye contact through the screen. “I’m taking the time out of my day, the time out of a very important meeting to educate you, a toddler, on the functions of a suit you’re in but don’t know anything about.” He snaps his fingers at the camera, “Hey! I saw that. Your attitude? Fix it.”

 “Okay.” The boy huffs.

“What was that?”

“Yes sir.” He mumbles.

Satisfied, Tony smiles with his usual smugness and slides his designer shades back on. “Okay, give em’ hell and be home by 10.” With that the call ends and Peter lets out a huge sigh; richly irritated.

_Damn old man! I could have figured it out myself! And what’s more important than briefing me anyway? He’s always at those stupid meetings and is barely home…wait why do I even care? I don’t care! Now…What did he say again? Uh…._

Peter stretched his arms back while taking in the view of the city from his position on the top of a building with a fairly decent height. He suddenly remembers that his father mentioned something about an AI and voice recognition system and decides to give it a try.

“Uh...hello?”

The screen lights up and a female AI voice responds. “Hello, Peter. Congratulations on completing the Training Wheels Program. The full version of Spiderman.002 is equip with many new features that was previously inaccessible in ‘safe mode’. Would you like a tutorial?”

“Just show me the cool stuff!” 

“Entering Instant Kill Mode.”

“K-kill mode?! No no no no!”

“Figure approaching rapidly.”, the AI warns and Peter has little time to react. He spins around a little too fast and loses his balance; tipping backward on the uneven edge of the roof. He suddenly feels a strong arm catch around his waist; too busy panicking to notice the man before him. He can tell the man is smiling even though he’s also wearing a mask. A familiar mask; red and black.

“Hiya Spidey!”, he chimes, then holds up a greasy looking brown paper bag, smelling of Mexican food. “Chimichanga?” the man asks with a shake of the bag. Peter doesn’t move a muscle and just stares.

_This guy again…_


	5. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve goes to Tony's job to talk.

 

Tony exits the board meeting room after going over the weekly goals of the Stark International expansion plan. He lets out a sigh of relief since everything seems to be right on schedule. He walks through the door of his office that only opens for those select few that have an authorized fingerprint in his personal database. As he enters he’s not surprised to see his husband, leaning on his desk with his arms folded.

“You only come to my office when you want something so, what is it?”, Tony plainly asks, not really in the mood to argue but knows he’s definitely here for a reason. He waits for a response but gathers that he’ll probably have to try a different approach, which prompts him to move closer to the man in question, coming face to face with the blonde. He’s been married long enough to know that when Steve is upset and so he’ll have to coax him into telling him what’s wrong. With a hand somewhat calloused he reaches out and strokes Steve’s cheek, cupping his face tenderly.

“What’s the matter? Talk to me.” Tony continues carefully, regretting his earlier tone. Steve turns away from the hand only to be guided back; forcing eye contact.

“I…” Steve starts with hesitance, “I feel responsible for what happened to Peter. I was careless and.. distracted.”

“I know you take pride in being the hero Cap, but this isn’t your fault. If anything it’s my fault for not checking to make sure his medicine was still working properly.”

“No Tony, it’s not-… the signs were there. He asked me if I thought he smelled funny and said other people said he does and I don’t know what I was thinking but, I …I didn’t think anything of it and there’s no excuse and I’m just the worst possible parent because I didn’t notice something that I should have and- “

Tony holds up a hand for him to pause.

“I’m going to stop you right there. When was your last heat?”

“Tony, I don’t see how that is relevant to- “

“You’re being emotional and I think you might be pregnant.”

“What? No- that has nothing to do with this. I’m telling you that I’ve been too caught up in myself lately; especially since Bucky came back.”

“It’s… not Bucky’s baby is it?”

“I’m not pregnant!”, Steve yells in a hushed manner, “that’s not the point- “

“Oh, I think it is. I hear what you’re saying perfectly clear, Steve. You’re distracted because of that asshole.”

“Jesus Christ. Can you, for once, not have selective hearing?”

“Are you seeing him Steve? Hm?”

“No, I’m not. I’m not ‘seeing’ him. He’s just back in my life temporarily, as a friend. You know how he is, he comes and goes as he pleases.”

“As he pleases, huh? Yeah, that the problem. Do you not remember what happened a few years ago?”

The blonde uncrosses his arms and sighs, rolling his eyes, “Not like I could ever forget. You got Peter involved and used him against me.”

“Look, I’m not the only one playing dirty here. How many times do I have to remind you that you’re MY omega? You can’t have emotional affairs when your bonded to ME.”

“I took Bucky’s side because it was the right thing to do, not because I was having an affair! I never cheated on you. You’re just a possessive bastard.” He smirks a bit, “Tell me, what is it about Bucky that makes you feel so inferior?”

Maintaining his composure, Tony runs his fingers briskly through his hair while walking around the desk to his chair and taking a seat. “Looks like I’ve been spending too much time at work and not enough time disciplining you.”

Steve raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth to speak, only to be silenced by a cold glare from his husband. He stands there in silence, challenging his gaze until he’s forced to look away, something in him urging him to submit. He notices Tony’s signature smug expression when he decides to look back at him. The alpha turns on the computer, intending to look over some important emails and only spares one more glance toward Steve.

“Take off your clothes and put your hands on the desk.”

The blonde, suddenly flustered, hesitates but does as he’s told, pulling the plain white shirt over his head and hastily shucking down his sweat pants; having worn casual clothing thinking that the talk would be rather short and he would continue with his afternoon exercise routine. He had some inkling that their conversation might have led to an argument but he had no idea that Tony would be this angry with him. Angry enough to ‘punish’ him.

“What part of take off your clothes do you not understand? Or is underwear not considered clothing?” Tony chastises in a cold tone. “Oh, don’t be shy now, when you had so much mouth just a minute ago.”

Steve hooks a thumb around the waistband of his briefs and tugs them down to his ankles and steps out of them with shaky legs, kicking them to the side. He places his hands onto the desk with his eyes downcast, a million thoughts running through his mind. He’s so preoccupied thinking of what Tony might do next that he doesn’t notice that his wrists have been bound to the desk. He looks up at Tony with blue eyes wide and questioning.

Tony’s smile widens and he leans back in his chair; crossing his legs comfortably, preparing to enjoy the show. “Cuffs. Made them just for you, not for an occasion such as this, more for a restrictive type play but you get my point. Oh, and this.” He presses a key on the keyboard that is built in and projected on his desk which triggers an opening in the floor, a multi handed tool emerging from it. Steve lets out a small grunt as the robotic hands bends him over in a position that has hips parallel to the desk. The blonde glares at his husband, not amused with his new ‘toys’.

“For what reason do you justify THIS being in your office?”, he asks sternly while glancing back at the machine; although he really doesn’t want to hear the snarky answer he’s sure to receive. Tony smirks and proceeds entering a string of corresponding keys. Two of the robotic hands spread Steve’s ass open and another drips a lukewarm lube-like substance onto his hole. Cold fingers push into the entrance and begins to pump in and out in a variety of motions, a predetermined set of patterns that switches every minute. A moan escapes the omega’s mouth which he immediately catches then curses himself for being turned on so easily.

“You like it?”, Tony questions despite it being rhetorical. “Who knew you’d actually be into this? I guess with a slutty hole like yours, anything will do, right? Even a machine.”, he groans, rubbing his temples as Steve continues to moan softly. “Bet you’re imagining they’re Bucky’s…what a fucking joke.”

“That’s- “, Steve gasps as one of the two hands that was spreading his ass open, reaches underneath and beings to stroke him, the coolness of the metal feeling strange against his warm pulsating cock. “Ah…Tony this is w-weird…mhn.”

“You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I’m not…!”

“You do realize this is a punishment right? Technically you’re not supposed to enjoy it.”

Steve shifts his gaze from the desk to peer into the eyes of his husband whose eyes are clouded with jealousy and something else. He looks conflicted. The omega slumps a little, the robotic fingers plunging deeper inside him. Tony must have pressed another command while he wasn’t looking because the hands are moving faster. His lips part and he pants lightly, trying to hold back a sob mixed with pleasure and discomfort. He didn’t want these machines to make him come, not under these circumstances, and not with Tony looking so troubled. He could feel the negative emotions radiating off his person.

“Alpha...,” the blonde pleaded with a soft pant.

“Don’t, don’t start that.”

“Please, alpha…I want yours. I can’t...I don’t want to come like this.”

Weak to the pleading of his omega, the brunette sighs, closing his eyes then opening them after a long pause. He reaches out and cups Steve’s face with palm, caressing it softly which his lover instinctively nuzzles into.

“What am I going to do with you?”, he sighs and leans into the other’s face, brushing his dry lips against wet ones. He bites the plump bottom lip of his husband’s parted mouth, capturing it between his teeth and sucking on it.

After a few minutes of sensual, sloppy kissing Tony steps back, reaching up to loosen his tie while clearing his throat. “Friday, clear my schedule for the remainder of the day.”

“Will do, Sir,” the AI responds promptly.


End file.
